


what if i told you that the world was gonna end?

by maybesentient



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, it's just soft good times and like a couple paragraphs of sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 05:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14349207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybesentient/pseuds/maybesentient
Summary: What if all the stars came crashing to the groundAnd explosions and fires started happening all aroundWould you believe me and come homeOr sit back, let it be?I can't do this by myself- (fifteen minutes, mike krol).a story in which home is a bouquet of flowers and a hand to hold.





	what if i told you that the world was gonna end?

Sammy tapped his pen against the dining table in front of him, time slipping away into a cesspool of anxious thoughts as he looked across the connected dining-kitchen area into the living room. He was staring almost directly at the front door, through which Jack would be walking at any minute. He had told Sammy he was going to get groceries to make spaghetti, and somewhere in between him leaving and now Sammy had come to a decision:

He was going to propose that night.

It was a long time coming, that was for sure. Ever since he met Jack, Sammy couldn’t imagine a life  _ without _ him. It didn’t seem possible that he had gone through so much without the lovely and all-consuming force that was Jack Wright. He knew maybe from the moment their eyes first met, green on gold like sun on moss, that split second flicker of a glance that sent his heart racing down the track.

Sammy got up from the table with a sigh, pacing the short area of space around the dining table and vaguely aware of the distant tick of a clock somewhere in the apartment. Yeah, he always sort of  _ knew _ , but back when they first met it wasn’t something he understood that he knew. It was attraction, but for a long while he just thought it was a friendly curiosity.

Oh, how wrong he was.

It was mainly Lily that helped him figure it out, though he’d never tell her that. One day, though, he saw the way she looked at him: a bit of anger, a wasp’s swarm of glares shot his way when she thought he wasn’t paying any attention. Somehow she knew before either of them did, although she probably wouldn’t admit that. Sammy doesn’t know why-- she always did like to boast about her own  _ phenomenal  _ journalistic instincts.

Even then, Sammy still wasn’t quite sure. His own feelings were never something he had a very tight grasp on. There was a large chunk of his life in which he thought there was something horribly wrong with him, that he should like girls but he didn’t so he pushed himself to behave as if he did. 

Sammy dropped his pen onto the kitchen counter as he passed through on his way to their bedroom, letting that free hand drift up toward his neck while the other dangled loose at his side. His pulse was obnoxiously prominent, a sure sign that his heart was about to burst out of his chest from nerves and adrenaline, but if he didn’t do this soon it was possible he would never again be able to drag himself to this point again.

It was much less spontaneous, looking back. There was a defining moment, a few months ago, that sparked the flame of this idea, and that would be the day they argued about flowers at a grocery store.

**.**

 

“We can’t get peonies!” Jack cried, voice bubbling up with laughter as he leaned against the wall beside the vases of flowers. “If we get peonies they won’t match the tablecloth we just got!”

“Really?” Sammy glanced up at Jack, chuckling under his breath as he let the tag for the vase of peonies fall from his fingers. They had actually come to the store for popsicles and he had no idea how they ended up on the complete opposite end of the store but they’re there and Jack is lounging like this is exactly where he intended to be. “It’s a white tablecloth, everything matches it.”

“Not pink.”

“Ye--  _ Yes _ . Pink and white definitely go together.”

“No…” Jack moved to stand beside Sammy, face thoughtful as he surveyed the flowers. “There’s nothing else pink in the kitchen or dining room, they wouldn’t match the atmosphere.”

“They could be an accen-- why are we having this conversation?” Sammy knew his voice sounded exasperated, but he could feel the pleased smile on his face, growing steadily into a dumbfounded grin as Jack looked up at him with a pouting expression.

“Because I want flowers.” Jack was whispering, looking up through his lashes, really piling on the pouting act. Sammy looked around-- they were pretty much the only two in this section of the store-- before he mirrored Jack’s stance and leaned closer.

“We don’t need flowers,” he said in his own soft voice, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re just going to die and then we’ll have to replace them in a month.”

Jack rolled his eyes, stepping closer as one hand reached up to toy with the collar of Sammy’s shirt like he was fixing it. As if spurred on simply by the physical contact, Sammy could feel his heart racing clumsily in his chest. “You’re not wrong but… I mean, I like flowers. You buy one bouquet and you can make any place feel like home.”

Home. A monosyllabic promise with enough power to cause Sammy to forget to breathe for a few seconds. He didn’t realize he had stepped back until Jack’s hand fell from his chest, until Jack’s eyes-- gold, gold like the sun, gold like autumn and honey and  _ home home home _ \-- turned down toward the flowers as he let out a ghost of a laugh.

“Sorry, right.” He reached out with his dropped hand, tracing the rim of a vase of marigolds. “I guess maybe we could be those people that get fake fruit, but knowing you you’ll probably try to eat one of the apples in the middle of the night.”

Sammy, still reeling a bit just from the  _ one word _ , finally forces himself to take a deep breath that melts into a scoff. “That happened once, and I was drunk.”

Jack hums in response, stepping back from the flowers with a small smile. “Twice, actually, and the first time you definitely were not drunk.”

The first time Sammy bit into a fake apple it was because he had been distracted by a shirtless Jack, but that wasn’t something he was about to admit out loud-- especially not when a middle-aged couple and their loud toddler appeared around a corner and began looking at the graduation cards across the wide aisle. With a laugh at the expense of Sammy’s reddening ears Jack turned and began walking down the aisle, and Sammy really didn’t even have to think before he reached down and grabbed the vase of marigolds, hurrying after Jack.

At first, Jack didn’t react. He seemed to be looking at everything  _ but _ Sammy, which wasn’t something that happened very often. Eventually Sammy had to hold out the vase further in front of him for Jack to look, and he caught the moment Jack’s eyes widened, his footsteps faltering in the middle of the candy aisle as he stopped to grab for the vase. Sammy took a large step back, grinning at the surprised confusion on Jack’s face.

“Are these good enough to go with the white tablecloth, Jack?”

“I-- What happened to not needing flowers?” Jack lunged forward to grab the vase again and Sammy moved it behind his back, stepping forward until there were only a few inches between them.

“I-- Jack, we don’t need flowers to make someplace home.” He didn’t think as the words fumbled their way out of his mouth; he let his train of thought take the reins for a moment. “I think anywhere could be home if I’m with you.”

“Oh--”

“ _ But _ , I would rather have flowers than fake fruit, if I’m being honest.” Jack didn’t reply for a few seconds, so Sammy handed him the vase with a small smile. They continued through the store in comfortable silence, finally grabbing popsicles and also a bottle of wine before leaving. They were sitting in the car when Jack finally said anything.

“Hey, Sammy?”

“Yeah?” Sammy pulled out of the grocery store parking lot, pushing down the sun visor as he started the slow drive to their apartment. To  _ home _ . Jack was quiet for a second, but then he spoke and it took all of Sammy’s strength to not jerk the wheel and drive into another car. 

“I love you.”

Sammy knew that his mouth said the hesitant words “I love you too”, but his thoughts were screaming one thing:  _ I’m gonna marry this man. _

**.**

 

The sound of keys turning in the door’s lock jarred Sammy out of his thoughts, heart crawling up into his throat as panic set in. He knew that he could always wait until another day, knew that he could even  _ actually plan _ a fantastic proposal-- he could get a ring, for one-- but then he heard the sound of Jack stepping inside and closing the front door and he knew that his fate was sealed. 

“Sammy?” Jack called out through the house, and Sammy allowed himself one final steadying breath before he spun on one foot and walked back down the hall into the living room. Jack was dropping his keys onto the small table by the door, kicking off his shoes and holding a bouquet of marigolds in one hand as he looked up at Sammy. “Babe, hey.”

“Hey,” Sammy replied softly, only for his expression to become one of confusion when he noticed the lack of grocery bags in Jack’s hands. “I-- Do you need help getting the bags?”

“Hm?”

“The spaghetti?”

Jack blinked, looking down at the flowers and then at his keys, eyes wide with embarrassment when he finally glanced back up at Sammy. “I, uh… might’ve gotten sidetracked.”

“You forgot to get dinner.” Sammy could hear his voice, how it sounded far too soft and brimming with adoration, and it was something that scared him even as he began to laugh. “Jack, you idiot.”

“Hey, I had more important things on my mind!” Jack’s shoulders raised defensively even as he laughed, cheeks going red. “I got the flowers, at least!”

“At least.”

There was a soft pause, a brief moment of quiet before they’re both talking at once. “Will you marry me?”

It took Sammy’s brain a few seconds too long to realize that the odd echo of his words wasn’t just his mind playing tricks on him. Jack’s eyes widened somehow even more, shoulders falling as surprise took over his entire expression. Sammy was pretty sure his heart didn’t even exist anymore, until it suddenly thumped back to life hard enough to make his ribs feel like they were trembling just beneath his skin.

Jack took one step forward, hesitating for only a second before he was suddenly surging forward and throwing himself into Sammy’s arms, and Sammy didn’t have to think before he happily caught Jack and held him as tightly as he could. Tighter, even, like he was trying to push their bodies together into one entity.

“Jack, you  _ idiot _ ,” he repeated, a gasp of awe into Jack’s hair. Jack just laughed, kept laughing, filling the air with his nervous and joyful energy. They were both shaking a bit, Sammy could tell, and when he finally pulled back he saw that Jack’s eyes were still wide with fearful awe. He smoothed his hands along Jack’s jaw, cupping his face as he grinned. “Jack, wh-- were you planning this?”

“No?” Jack laughed breathlessly. “I-- I really was planning to get spaghetti but then I saw the flowers and then somehow I ended up getting a ring and just leaving and--”

“You got a ring?”

“Ye-- you didn’t?” Jack shook his head, hands moving to wrap loosely around Sammy’s wrists. “Babe, you just  _ proposed _ without a ring?”

“Not important, how’d you get a ring at the grocery store?”

“Oh!” Jack pressed his lips together, letting go of one wrist to reach down and pull something out of his pocket. He held it up between the two of them and Sammy really wasn’t all that surprised at what he saw. It was one of those capsule toys you would get in a gashapon, the cap a bright red and inside there was a really gaudy fake emerald ring.

“Oh my god,” Sammy said softly, and then they were both laughing and holding each other so close that Sammy could feel the capsule pressing into his chest and he really didn’t mind at all. Eventually they pulled away again, and Jack sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he smiled.

“Is that a yes?”

Sammy took the capsule and popped it open, taking out the ring and sliding it onto his ring finger. It was a little tight and he was pretty sure it would be hell trying to get it off later, but all he cared about right then was the heavenly grin on his boyfriend’s-- no, his  _ fiancé’s _ \-- face.

_ Home. _

**.**

 

Sammy falls onto the couch, a long sigh of exhaustion passing through his lips as he closes his eyes. It’s well past dawn and he was supposed to meet up with Troy for breakfast but there’s something bone-deep and sluggish that prevents Sammy from actually making any move to get up and go back to his car.

Instead he tugs absentmindedly at the chain around his throat, pulling it from beneath his shirt to let the cheap plastic gem catch the light. The hoop of the ring is cracked, held together with hot glue but fixed in such a way that it won’t actually fit onto his finger, and the silver paint is peeling away from the plastic from years of rubbing against skin. It’s something that should have been thrown away years ago, replaced with an  _ actual _ ring.

“Jack,” Sammy says, so quietly that he’s not even sure if he really said it out loud. It  _ should _ have been replaced, but there’s no one left to replace it and Sammy can’t bring himself to throw it away.

He presses the ring to his lips, eyes closing slowly.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @noctiilucent on tumblr/twitter, where i can be found occasionally writing things or rambling nonsensically. if you enjoy this please let me know, i'm always in need of motivation to write more!! also, marigolds symbolize pain and grief :)


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